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by lockmyheart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angst, M/M, crumbling relationship, mention of alcohol abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 23:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockmyheart/pseuds/lockmyheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no where to run anymore and Dean and Castiel can no longer look each other in the eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





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It is not that they have grown apart exactly; they just don’t have time anymore. At least that is what Castiel tells himself when he goes to bed, alone, often in the early morning, battered and bruised and beyond exhausted. It is not like he and Dean have grown apart, really. They haven’t. Their lives have simply changed. Dean is no longer Dean and Castiel is no longer Castiel. And Castiel tells himself that that’s fine. 

But deep down Castiel knows that he’s only making up excuses, because they have grown apart but neither of them is quite willing to accept that. Dean pretends everything is alright but Castiel can see how dead his eyes are and he knows his own reflect the same emotion. This is just one of reasons why they can hardly bear to look at each other anymore. 

When they aren’t ignoring each other they are usually arguing. They argue a lot more now and it’s loud and intense and it leaves Castiel with a bitter taste in his mouth that only goes away with the stronger and more bitter taste of alcohol. They argue because it feels like Dean wants Castiel to _be_ Dean. To be _like_ him and Castiel has tried, he really has, but the truth is he’s not like him and he never will be. He’s not used to this, he’s not made for it the way Dean is. The way he was raised was not _like this_. This life. Being human. It’s like Dean doesn’t understand how difficult it is and how drained he feels every day because of it. What used to be easy is now often extremely difficult and what used to be unnecessary is now a necessity to even keep him alive. 

What he wants most of all lately is to just lie down and sleep the rest of his sorry life away but Dean wouldn’t have let him. Dean keeps him upright with an iron fist and in the beginning that used to reassure Castiel but now it has begun to feel as if he is silently choking. This is yet another reason why Castiel is snaps at Dean lately. 

But how do you tell Dean Winchester that you don’t want to do this anymore? 

The answer is that you simply don’t. If Castiel tried, Dean would give him that look that would guilt him into saying it was stupid, don’t worry about it, I’m just tired, please, ignore me. Dean would pretend to believe him and it would never be mentioned again and that’s that. 

So Castiel learned how to soldier through the pain and the suffering and the difficulties that came along with being thrust into humanity. He now walks with his head held high and his shoulders pulled back, swallowing back pills so he can laugh when he would rather cry. 

Dean doesn’t like it and honestly Castiel doesn’t understand what Dean wants. 

The words “let’s just run away” have been lingering on the tip of his tongue for months but he doesn’t dare to say them, doesn’t dare to suggest it. Dean will never run away, not from something he feels is his fault to begin with. The worst part is that sometimes Castiel blames Dean as well. 

“I’ll never be good enough,” he says one day and Dean looks at him in shock, as if this comes right out of the blue. As if he doesn’t already know. 

“What?” His tone is hard. Guarded. Daring him to continue, to voice the problem out loud and make it real. 

It’s the middle of the sweltering hot summer and Dean and Castiel are sitting inside their (though Castiel is sure it’s just “his” now) cabin. Castiel is desperately wishing for a bucket of ice to stick his head in but there are no freezers. Sweat trickles down his temple and neck he really doesn’t feel like moving today, but Dean is uneasy. He’s restless and jittery and he wants to hunt. He wants ( _needs_ ) to kill.

“For you,” Castiel clarifies though he really doesn’t think he should have to clarify anything at this point. “Nothing I do is good enough. I don’t understand what you want from me.”

Dean tenses. He grits his teeth, swallows. “I don’t want anything from you.”

Castiel sits up and he feels a drop of sweat slide down the crease of his spine. It’s uncomfortable and he winces. Humanity as a whole is uncomfortable, he will never get used to this. “Bullcrap,” he says and Dean’s eyebrows shoot up as they do every time Castiel swears. Dean will never get used to his humanity either. “You clearly don’t want me to leave but you don’t seem to want me here anymore.” 

Dean looks away. Castiel wonders if he felt the same stab if pain that Castiel did just now. He wonders if he even feels anything anymore. “Do you want to leave?” Dean asks.

Castiel sighs and rubs his forehead. He has an almost constant headache these days. “Would it make a difference if I did?”

Dean stood up, ansty, and walks over to the windows. Castiel follows him with his eyes because he is too tired to follow him in any other way. Eventually, Dean says, “I’m not your gatekeeper, Cas.”

“I know,” Castiel says, resigned. He eyes the back of Dean’s head and longs to reach out to him. Instead he swallows hard and asks, “Risa?”

Dean’s shoulders tighten and Castiel stares at his back coldly. “What about her?”

“Nothing.” Silently, Castiel lies back down. He reaches underneath the bed for the half-empty bottle he knows is there and swallows down two mouthfuls. The burn in his throat feels a lot better than the burn in his eyes and he sighs in relief. 

Dean turns around and looks at him with what Castiel knows is disappointment but he can’t (won’t) bring himself to care. 

They are both silent after that, expertedly avoiding each other’s eyes. There isn’t anything more to say that hasn’t already been said. Dean isn’t Castiel’s gatekeeper and Castiel knows that, he has always known that. There is nothing that forces Castiel to stay, he has always been free to go whenever he wanted to. But where would he go if he left? There is nowhere to run, or hide, even in death there is no peace to be found. If he didn’t get killed by croats he would most likely end up with a noose around his neck in an abandoned shack somewhere, and where would that get him? Heaven isn’t much better than this, at this point, and Hell… Well, then he would rather be here, with Dean, until they went down together. Because the painful truth is that all they have left in this world is each other and it hurts because it shouldn’t be like this, but it is what it is. 

Dean leaves the cabin soon after, failing to see Castiel’s slightly outstretched hand. It falls limply back onto the mattress. 

Castiel laughs bitterly, laughs until it sounds like sobbing, and finishes his bottle.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments are always appreciated.


End file.
